


The Bastard Trial

by Dira Sudis (dsudis)



Series: Linens-verse [2]
Category: Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: I shook a witcher and intergenerational trauma fell out, M/M, Pederasty, Sexual Assault
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-19
Updated: 2020-08-19
Packaged: 2021-03-06 14:41:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,612
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26000563
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dsudis/pseuds/Dira%20Sudis
Summary: Eskel's view of (some of) the events of Chapter 2 of The Trial of the Linens.(I meant to write the entire thing but it got too sad for me to deal with very fast, so this is a pretty brief ficlet that doesn't particularly resolve and won't make sense, or generally be a good reading experience, if you haven't read the first story.)
Relationships: Eskel & Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Original Male Character(s)
Series: Linens-verse [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1887142
Comments: 23
Kudos: 218





	The Bastard Trial

**Author's Note:**

> I hit "Choose Not to Warn" on this because while _technically_ this story doesn't include any on-page Graphic Violence, Rape, or Underage Sexual Activity, all of those things are very, very much present just off-screen. 
> 
> Again, if you haven't read Chapter 2 of The Trial of the Linens, I cannot imagine why you would want to read this. If you have, you know what this is.

Eskel tried to say, _I don’t need you protecting me when I’m trying to protect you, you ploughing idiot_ , in just the hiss of Geralt’s name and jab of his finger, but whether Geralt understood him or not, the damage was done. After all Eskel’s careful, subtle work to draw Karsten’s eyes to himself--and more importantly, _away_ from Geralt, who would only get himself hurt and hurt badly--Geralt had stomped in and stolen Karsten’s attention. And now Geralt was gone, already headed upstairs to await Karsten while everyone else finished supper.

So now Eskel would just have to figure out what to do about _that_. He looked toward Master Vesemir, but couldn’t catch his eye; after a solid minute he had to conclude that it was because Master Vesemir wasn’t willing to have his eye caught. He’d told them to come to them _after_ a witcher did something to them he shouldn’t, so apparently now was too soon.

Eskel would just have to get someone else’s help, then, because he was well aware he alone wasn’t going to be able to handle whatever disaster Geralt was about to set off. He looked over the other adult witchers; some of them were still eyeing the tables of boys in training, considering their options for the night. He didn’t really know any of them, though, not enough to trust them with this, except… 

Olli wasn’t looking around, but Eskel thought he was their best chance. Eskel and Geralt had both already gone to bed with him--and he’d been Gwilim and Aubry’s first, and been kind to both of them. He’d be kind about this, too, Eskel was pretty sure, and he probably liked Geralt as much as everybody who’d taken him to bed did, which was usually a lot. He seemed to like Eskel all right. He would probably listen, at least.

Olli looked up from his conversation with the witcher beside him just then, and met Eskel’s eyes. Eskel bit his lip, fighting the impulse to look away, to be less obvious. Olli’s eyebrows tilted up; Eskel made as much of a pleading face as he dared in the dining hall with everyone looking on. Olli’s eyebrows rose a little higher, and he glanced away for a second--to the empty spot at Eskel’s side?--then met Eskel’s eyes again and nodded. 

Eskel nodded back and then let his head bow in relief. He couldn’t eat another bite, and the sight of Geralt’s half-finished meal only made him feel sicker. But he had no excuse to slip out and if he did he’d only go find Geralt and try to convince him to take it back, stay away from Karsten, and that would only make everything worse. 

So he waited through the rest of the excruciating meal, grinding his teeth every time he heard Karsten’s voice or his laugh. He waited while everyone got up and started walking out of the dining hall, working his way through the tide of boys heading toward the dormitories to reach the visiting witchers. He only dared to meet Olli’s eyes again then, and Olli had an expression Eskel couldn’t read. But he put his hand firmly on Eskel’s shoulder and steered him toward the stairs without lingering.

The first thing he saw, when they came up into the corridor where the witchers’ rooms were, was Geralt, still standing in the corridor, facing Karsten’s door. He didn’t look at Eskel, and Eskel gritted his teeth and made himself look away, staring down at his own feet as Olli guided him to his own room. It was just one down and across the hall from Karsten’s. 

Not far to run, then. Not too far to hear.

Eskel turned as soon as he was properly inside Olli’s room, keeping his hands open at his sides with an effort. Olli shut the door but didn’t bar it, and stayed just inside, leaning one shoulder against the wall as he folded his arms over his chest and gave Eskel a long look up and down. It wasn’t a sex kind of look, just measuring. 

Kindly, like he thought the answer was obvious, he said, “What exactly do you think it’s going to help, to be up here when he’s in there with Karsten?”

Eskel gritted his teeth and flexed his fingers, took a slow breath in and out, and then said, “I can run for Vesemir that much faster. I can grab your Seal. White Raffard’s Decoction, if you have it." 

Such an intense potion would be dangerous for any of them, not yet full-fledged witchers, but at least Geralt had had more exposure to Seal than any of them, plus those extra trials. He probably had more toxicity resistance than most. There would be some way to save him, even if he had to wait until the damage was done. There had to be.

Olli winced but shook his head, still not getting it. "I know you’re worried, but the other boys--" 

"They were older,” Eskel interrupted fiercely. “And bigger, and have been through the Trial of the Dreams, and probably knew enough to _back down_. Geralt _won’t_. He’s going to push, and he’s going to get hurt, and I can’t just--just…" 

Olli’s expression turned sympathetic, but his gaze darted to the chest where he kept his potions. He was finally taking this seriously, considering that Geralt might need something. 

"It’d have to be diluted properly,” Olli sighed. “And--only if he’s really hurt that badly. He might not be.”

But the gentle reassuring tone had been replaced with weary resignation. Olli turned his head a little, listening; Eskel listened too, but heard nothing. He’d never really noticed it before, but you usually didn’t hear any sounds from the other rooms up here; the walls and doors were thick and solid. It made sense, he supposed. Witchers didn’t want to be kept awake, and their ears were sharp. 

Eskel took a cautious step forward, then another, listening with all his might and watching Olli, because he would hear things Eskel didn’t and--

Eskel saw it, the jerk of Olli’s body, a half-second before he turned his eyes toward Eskel and said, low and fierce, “You _stay behind me_. You keep me between him and you. Swear it or I’ll lock you in here.”

“Swear,” Eskel said immediately, because he _wasn’t_ an idiot and knew that he couldn’t help Geralt that way. 

Olli tugged the door open a little way and stood in the gap. Eskel stepped up close behind him, listening, watching the back of Olli’s neck, the grip of his hand on the edge of the door. 

This time he heard it himself--Geralt screamed, high and loud and _hurt_ , and the scream tailed off much too sharply. 

From down the hall, Eskel heard another witcher say quietly, “Was that--" 

"Not good,” Olli replied, equally quietly, and Eskel closed his eyes and took a breath. It would be okay. There were two grown witchers listening now, Geralt couldn’t be hurt that badly--

There was a deeper, louder, angrier yell-- _Karsten_ , which meant Geralt had done something to infuriate him--and Eskel lunged out into the corridor on Olli’s heels. He saw the heavy door rattle as a weight struck it, heard someone fumbling with the bar and then Geralt’s voice, desperate and hoarse and barely forming a word, but--

 _Aard_ , strong enough to blow a hole in the door. Despite everything he felt a flash of pride; he’d have to tell Master Corbin what Geralt had managed under pressure.

“ _Back_ ,” Olli hissed, and the other witcher--Jens, Eskel thought his name was, the one who never took anybody up to his room--brushed past Eskel to plant himself at Olli’s side.

Olli shoved a hand through the hole in the door even as the thumping sounds up against the other side of it got worse, and cast something through the door before he whipped his hand back out and shoved the door inward. All three witchers were yelling and Eskel heard more doors opening in the corridor, more shouts, but he didn’t hear a single sound from Geralt. Had they just been standing here waiting, while he--but he couldn’t-- 

The time he had to wait to be sure that Olli had pushed Karsten back from the door felt like centuries but could only have been seconds; the door had hardly even bounced back from being slammed open as Eskel darted through and around it to find Geralt limned in the golden light of a Quen, naked and bloodied and struggling to stand. But still standing. Still alive.

Eskel spread his hands, not sure how to reach for him without being bounced off. The light disappeared before Geralt quite fell, letting Eskel step in and wrap his arms around Geralt, who went almost limp against him. He was only barely aware of another Quen covering both of them; he could only focus on the feeling of Geralt’s rapid breathing in his arms, the tiny pained noises he was making that somehow weren’t lost under all the shouting and pounding footsteps. 

“I’ve got you,” Eskel said firmly. “I’ve got you, you’ll be all right now, you _idiot_ , I’m here." 

Geralt didn’t respond, or give any sign that he heard, unless it was to lean even more heavily against Eskel, but that was enough. Eskel kept up the stream of reassurance as he got Geralt out the door and into the corridor; yet another witcher herded them toward Olli’s room, planting himself in front of the door as Eskel darted through and kicked it shut behind them.

**Author's Note:**

> [This was previously posted on Tumblr in the time vortex of Late March 2020](https://dsudis.tumblr.com/post/613779885675233280/the-bastard-trial-linens-verse-eskel-pov), but I needed to make a Linens-verse series anyway so I figured it might as well go up on Ao3!


End file.
